


are you the hero of my dreams?

by WishingTree



Category: Amar a Muerte (TV)
Genre: F/F, emotional link through dreams or something idek, meant! to! be!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingTree/pseuds/WishingTree
Summary: Juliana doesn’t believe in dream visions, in seeing things in your dreams that turn out to be true. She knows it’s all impossible, concepts like past lives and reincarnation and souls linked throughout time and space, and therefore anything she might come up with while she’s dreaming is just that. A dream.She knows all this, and yet at the end of the day there’s a part of her that doubts the surety of that knowledge. Because the thing is?She’s pretty sure she’s met Valentina before.





	are you the hero of my dreams?

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this real fast! Can’t say I expected it hah, was trying to write the other fic, but oh well!
> 
> Title from 'Our Last Summer' by ABBA;

Juliana doesn’t believe in dream visions, in seeing things in your dreams that turn out to be true. She knows it’s all impossible, concepts like past lives and reincarnation and souls linked throughout time and space, and therefore anything she might come up with while she’s dreaming is just that. A dream. 

She knows all this, knows it as well as she knows anything, and yet at the end of the day, there’s a part of her that doubts the surety of that knowledge. 

Because the thing is?

She’s pretty sure she’s met Valentina before.

 

 

There was a girl who would appear in her dreams when she was little, Juliana remembers. She was warm and soft and pretty, always so pretty, and Juliana very faintly recalls her bringing with her the feeling of home, a different one from what she knew with her parents. 

She had been golden, calming and always carrying with her the flaring impression of sunlight, the feeling of wildflowers, the sense of freedom and comfort and safety. She was the flight of butterflies and the strength of starlight, wrapped into one. The feeling was unmistakable, irreplaceable, _indescribable_. The girl was fireworks, was magic, and when Juliana woke, the feeling had always lingered, lending her strength to carry on with the new day. 

Juliana couldn’t remember any of the details of these dreams, isn’t sure she ever really did, but she could remember the comfort they gave her. She could remember the girl, in faint lines and faded colours, and she was still the realest thing she had ever known.

But still, she was just a dream, a figment of Juliana’s unconscious brain. She wasn’t real, and slowly, so slowly, Juliana began to forget her, the memories fading to the back of her mind to settle with the rest of her reluctantly abandoned hopes and dreams. And time went on.

She grew up, continued to live her life in San Antonio until everything was thrown into chaos, and then she wound up in Mexico City. 

 

There she meets a girl named Valentina who smiles like sunshine, who dances and laughs and _loves_ , loves with everything she is. She’s just a familiar stranger, until the moment she’s not.

And Juliana falls in love.

She falls in love with Valentina.

 

And that feeling from her dreams comes back.

 

* * *

 

Months later, Juliana’s eyes snap open, and she stares up at the ceiling as distorted memories come flooding back, her heart racing in her chest. It’s completely disorienting, being bombarded by feelings drawn right out of her past, and she takes a deep breath as she struggles to get her half-asleep mind around it all. 

It takes more than a second, but then all of a sudden it’s clear again. She thinks she remembers the little girl… and she remembers the feelings she would bring.

That feeling, that beautiful golden feeling, she remembers that most of all, and marvels at the way it’s no longer out of her reach. She feels it most every day. The reason why hits her again, and she wonders when she started associating it with Valentina over the girl from her dreams.

Her brow furrows as she turns that thought over in her mind. That doesn’t make any sense.

Valentina is real. Valentina is _here_ , is lying right beside her. She’s curled into Juliana with her face pressed against her shoulder, and she’s fast asleep, her breathing even. But almost as if she can sense her unrest, her hand flexes where it’s gripping the front of Juliana’s sleep shirt and pulls her ever closer.

Feeling the affection bubble up inside of her, Juliana’s chest eases and her whirling mind slows. She traces her features in the dim moonlight coming through the window, and carefully brings up her hand to stroke Valentina’s loose hair, spilling out over the blankets behind her. The strands are soft on her fingers, and she’s careful to keep her touch light, not wanting to disturb the other girl any farther.

It doesn’t make any sense that Valentina would be the girl from her dreams. Of course it doesn’t. 

Juliana sighs and settles back down against the pillows, tilting her head to rest her cheek against Valentina’s temple, and she lets her eyes slip shut. When she falls asleep, she doesn’t dream, but she’ll wake up with the impression of wildflowers all the same.

 

* * *

           

Of course, though Juliana doesn’t know it, her dead father had been resurrected, his soul transported into another’s body. The impossible had already happened, and there was absolutely nothing stopping it from having happened somewhere else as well.

 

She doesn’t know it yet.

But maybe one day, she will.

 


End file.
